Regressor, Possessor, Reincarnator
Chapter 8
The sorcerer's workshop was filled with the scent of monster corpses and rotten corpses.
I heard sounds of people crying.
Gurgle, gurgle.
An unidentifiable potion, a sprawling heap of organs, and bound corpses. These things all together overwhelmed my senses.
“Mom! Where are you, mom?!”
“They’re all… residents…?”
“Sir Allen! We couldn’t find any survivors. Sir Allen. …Sir Allen?”
Blaargh…
‘Who was that? Someone we rescued? Or a soldier? Jesus, they call themselves soldiers yet they’re so squeamish…’
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